Finally he collapsed back onto the seat. She pulled away, giving him a last quick kiss, and lay her head on his belly while he stroked her hair from her face.
“Holy shit, that was better than any fantasy.”
She smiled against his skin and pushed herself up. His face held a sleepy, sated expression, his eyes half-closed. A weird sensation ran through her, the need to hold him tight, to not let him go, but she shook the feeling away. His T-shirt was pushed up, his jeans pushed down, but he made no move to cover himself. Unable to resist, she reached out and stroked the silky hair that bisected his belly, twirling her fingers in the curls. His stomach was rock hard, the individual muscles clearly visible beneath the olive skin.
“Take your jeans off,” he said, the words jolting her from her appreciation of his body. As she considered it, she grew hotter, wetter. She glanced at his cock, still semi-hard, but she doubted he was capable of performing right now.
“Can you…?”
He grinned. “Not yet—you’ve drained me dry. But I fancy playing a little. Take them off.”
She glanced outside but the street was dark and quiet. Nothing moved.
Why not?
She was sure there was a very good reason. And she couldn’t quite believe she was considering it—little miss perfect, never put a foot wrong, was going to get next to naked with Logan McCabe in his truck. Before she could change her mind, she undid the snap on her jeans and wriggled out of them, taking her pajama bottoms with them, shoving them onto the floor at her feet.
“And the top.”
That would leave her in nothing but the lacy camisole she slept in. She shrugged out of the jacket and dropped it on top of her jeans.
“Christ, that’s hot. Come here.”
“Come where?”
“You ever made out in a truck before?”
“Never.”
“What a surprise. Come over onto my seat, straddle my hips.”
She gave him a look of disbelief, but shuffled over. Logan placed his hands on her thighs to help her and soon she was kneeling, one leg on either side of his hips, feeling extremely vulnerable. Logan obviously liked it, his cock twitched and jerked, coming alive once more. His gaze played over her body like a flame.
“Touch yourself,” he murmured.
“What?”
“Stroke your pussy. Show me how you were touching yourself when I phoned. Come on, sweetheart. It’s hot. Shy? I’ll go first.” He fisted his hand around his cock, and her mouth went dry.
Slowly her hand shifted to between her legs. The heat pooled in her sex, sliding down her inner thighs, she was so turned on. She caught her lower lip between her teeth as she pushed one finger between the folds, sliding it over her swollen clit. Looking into his face, she found him staring at where her hand was buried between her thighs, while his own hand pumped his cock. Shivers of sensation ran through her, coalescing in her belly, sinking lower…
“Are you wet?” he asked, his voice husky with a need that amped up her own desire.
She withdrew her fingers to show them glistening with moisture. He grasped her hand and brought it to his mouth, his tongue licking at her fingers so she felt the touch between her legs. God, he was sexy.
“More,” he urged.
This time she used both hands, one to spread her lips, the other to stroke herself then push inside. The pleasure was building. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. He dragged the straps of her camisole down over her shoulders and arms, tugging it down to free her breasts. Her nipples were hard little peaks, and he rolled one between his thumb and fingers, tugging. The sensation was enough to tip her over the edge, and she came apart, pressing the heel of her hand against her sex to prolong the pleasure.
Finally she went still and peeked at him through half-closed lashes. His cheekbones were flushed, his breathing ragged.
“Can you reach into my pocket?”
She fumbled around until she found what she was looking for and pulled the condom from the back pocket of his jeans. Obviously, if nothing else, the last ten years had taught him safe sex. He took it from her, ripped open the packet with his teeth, the rolled the condom over his erection. “Now where were we?”
Placing his hands on her hips, he shifted in the seat until his cock nudged at the entrance to her body. Then he pulled her down, impaling her on the thick, hard length of him, and she closed her eyes and gave herself up to the sensations.
She didn’t know what time it was when he finally pulled the truck up in front of her house. They’d made love, and then they’d talked, about Jenny mainly, for hours. He wanted to know everything. Afterward, they’d made love again. Now they were both dressed, but the cab reeked of sex, thick and musky, reminding her of the things they had done. Things she wanted again already.
Would she ever get enough of him?